Cast in the Shadows
by ElphieThroppDG28
Summary: Beatrice and Peyton Walker have the pleasure to visit their Aunt Louise for the summer. While it seems like it'll be the same-old experience, Beatrice soon starts to uncover clues concerning her family's history. Movie-verse.
1. Author's Note

_Hola! I know, I know...this is, what, my thirteenth new story in two months? But I can't help it...I've actually had this in my head since freshman year. Also, this isn't one of my "Abridged" stories, and as much as I love writing those, I'd like to get something else up besides that._

_Yes, there will be girls in this story. No, this won't be a typical "girl at Camp Green Lake" story. It started out that way, but that was before I started posting fanfiction. So, yes, back when I was an idiot freshman, all of my stories contained Mary Sues. But I'm older now, and I know how to write well-rounded characters. _

_DISCLAIMER: Louis Sachar owns everything. Well, and Disney and Walden Media own the movie. But I don't own anything, except for the OCs._

_PLEASE GIVE ME FEEDBACK! I don't know what the deal is with me, but lately, people haven't been reviewing my stuff (with the exception of the "Abridged" stories). I don't know if it's because people are either not reading what I have to say, or outright ignoring what I have to say (and I'm still not sure which one applies to Matthew Lewis - he plays Neville in the Harry Potter movies. He hasn't answered any of my Tweets...but maybe I should leave him alone before he puts a restraining order on me...XD). _

_Anyway, enough about me and my habit of stalking good-looking celebrities! Please send me reviews! I would really appreciate it! Tell me what you liked, tell me what you think I could do differently...just don't say, "Wow, this story sucks!" without telling me WHY. If it sucks, okay, I'm cool with that. But I'd like to know WHY so I can improve. Plus, flames are just downright rude. _

_I think that's it for now. Read on and enjoy! :)_

_~Elphie_


	2. Prologue

Cast in the Shadows

_W__hy is happiness casting me in the shadows?_

_Hold on, don't turn and walk away..._

_And I cried these words, but nobody came_

_I'm all alone, running scared_

_Losing my way in he dark..._

_This is my side of the story,_

_Only my burden to bear_

_Nobody cares, nobody's there_

_No one will hear my side of the story_

-Hodges, "My Side of the Story"

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><p><span>Prologue<span>

The Walker house was the third one down on Olive Street. It was very similar to the cottages in storybooks, with its multi-pointed roof, its soft blue color, and its white picket fence. It was almost too good to be true that the Walker family seemed to match their home; they were so normal, so cookie-cutter perfect. At least, that was how they appeared.

Lillian Newman, future reporter, briskly strode up the front walk that led to the large blue house. She had heard the rumors, had read the paper dutifully each day; she knew what was going on. The Walkers had just been through a hellish court case concerning a delinquent camp that had been in their family for nearly a century, and they had yet to recover from their tarnished image.

This was why she was here. She wanted to get a first-hand account of what had really happened. There was a reason behind the Walkers' strange behavior. It was up to her to figure out why.

She rang the doorbell, letting out a breath she hadn't been aware of holding. It didn't take long for someone to answer the door. A girl with dark auburn hair stood in the threshold, looking a bit confused.

"Hello," she said warily. "May I help you?"

"Lillian Newman," Lillian said professionally, sticking out her hand. "Two streets down, red brick house. I've been following your court case closely, and-"

"Oh," the girl said, clearly uncomfortable. "You know, I don't think-"

Lillian simply brushed past the girl and walked into the nearest room. It was a pristine-looking sitting room; the chairs were so clean and the table so shiny, it looked as if no one ever used it.

"Um...what are you doing?" the girl asked.

"I'm not leaving until I get my story," Lillian said, sitting down and poising her pen above her notebook. "If I'm going to go to Communications Journalism camp next month, I'm going to need a killer report. What could be better than the Walker case?"

"A lot of things," the girl said, agitated. "I really don't think this is a good idea. My family is still recovering from the whole thing."

Lillian gave her a hard look. "I realize this will be hard for you. But you have to get used to it. People will be knocking down your door soon enough-"

"People are already doing that," the girl said matter-of-factly, hands on her hips. "It's getting to be irritating. I wish everyone would just leave us alone."

Lillian started to jot down notes. "And why is that?"

The girl gave a mirthless laugh. "Can you please leave?"

"I can tell you want to tell someone about it," Lillian answered, staring right at her. "There are things you aren't sharing with everyone. Who knows? Maybe your story could reveal something crucial to the case."

The girl hesitated, thinking about it. "I don't know..."

"Just sit," Lillian said, gesturing to a chair. "I won't judge."

The girl sighed, clearly frustrated, but sat down anyway.

"Alright, today is June 15th...and I am sitting here with Miss...?"

"Beatrice," the girl answered crossing her legs.

"Beatrice Walker, age..."

"Seventeen."

"Seventeen, brown hair, brown eyes..." Lillian glanced up and looked at Beatrice's tee shirt. "Likes Snoopy..."

"Are you writing a report, or a bio for a dating service?" Beatrice snapped.

"Sorry," Lillian said, although her tone suggested otherwise. "Just putting down necessary facts."

Before Beatrice could retort, Lillian went right on talking.

"So...when did it start?"

Beatrice's brown wrinkled. "Isn't that kind of a vague question?"

"Of course it's not. When did it start?" Lillian looked up expectantly.

"When did what start?"

"The events in question, of course."

Beatrice laughed again. "Do you want to know about the trial, or about last summer, or..."

"No time for specifics," Lillian interrupted. "Start talking. You don't think I have all day, do you?"

Beatrice gaped at her. "You really are impertinent, you know that?"

"That's the goal." Lillian smiled. "How about...when did this whole 'Camp Green Lake' business start up?"

"Fine, then. It's been going on for a while, but I think it all began when I was nine years old…"


	3. 1: The Beginning of the End

Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End

For as long as I can remember, the phrase "Camp Green Lake" was forbidden in our house. It was even more potent than the Mother of All Swear Words, according to my granddad. No one would tell me or any other child in the Walker family why it was such a bad thing to say; all we knew was that if it was uttered even quietly, there would be some serious consequences.

As I got older, I started to suspect it had something to do with my Aunt Louise. She was the oldest of my dad's siblings, and the only one who wasn't married. My dad warned us that his elder sister was a dangerous woman, which was why she never came to Christmas dinner or stopped by for birthdays.

I guess my grandparents didn't like her bringing up the camp or the lake. They wouldn't tell us why, exactly. All they said was that the lake had brought bad luck and despair to the Walker family. Which couldn't be argued, because we had been in debt for years and years, a fact I learned one fateful Christmas morning.

Christmas was always a somewhat quiet holiday, on account of the fact that it was just my family and my Aunt Suzie's family. The adults would drink coffee and talk about boring adult things, while us kids tore into our presents and ate as much candy as we wanted. That Christmas, however, we got an unwelcome surprise.

Right in the middle of the morning, the doorbell rang. Who should it be but Aunt Louise, with her bright red hair and her low, commanding voice. She was a very tall woman, and, being a kid who only caught glimpses of her in photographs, she was immediately intimidating to me.

No one acted too upset that she had shown up - at least, they tried not to. Things went on as they normally did. Aunt Louise seemed intent on bringing something up, but my granddad immediately changed the subject when she tried.

Now, of all three of my cousins on my dad's side, Peyton is probably the most gregarious. She's tall, tan, blond, and very preppy. She also isn't afraid to say what was on her mind - or anyone else's, for that matter. So that's why I found myself behind the Christmas tree with her, trying not to be noticed by the grown-ups.

"I think we should ask Aunt Louise about...you-know-what," she said gleefully.

"No way!" I frowned. "You know what happens when Granddad hears about..._that_. He'll have a fit!"

"He can't keep it from us forever. And when's the next time we'll see Aunt Louise? She hardly EVER comes to visit!"

She had a point, that I couldn't deny. I fingered my skirt nervously and bit my lip, all the same. "Don't do it, Peyton. You'll get in trouble."

"Come on, Trix! What's the worst that can happen?"

If what happened next hadn't been so scary, I would find that question to be quite funny. But it's not, and it never will be.

Peyton's sister, Maggie, who's two years younger than her, went right up to Aunt Louise and asked, "Aunt Louise? Why don't you ever come to see us?"

Peyton shushed me and peeked out behind the tree. I did so, as well, trembling.

Aunt Louise smiled sweetly. "Well, Margaret, I live in a house that's very far from here."

"Lou..." Dad said sternly.

"And my job is very demanding," she continued, ignoring my dad. "So I can't come visit as much as I would like."

"What do you do?" Maggie asked innocently.

"Maggie, sweetheart," Aunt Suzie said gently. "Aunt Louise doesn't want to-"

"Suzie, she asked what I do." Aunt Louise's smiled hadn't wavered. "I'm simply answering her question."

There was an awful silence before my dad spoke up.

"You want something, don't you?"

Aunt Louise turned to him. "Excuse me?"

"You never come home, Lou. You're always out on that damned lake, wasting your time."

"Robert..." my mom said, glancing at my four-year-old brother, Alex. "Language, please."

"I don't care, Cathy." He walked over to where my aunt was sitting. "You must want something from Dad. There's no point in hiding it."

"Excuse me?" she said again.

My dad gritted his teeth, saying nothing. My uncle Tim excused himself to the bathroom, hightailing it out of there as fast as he could.

"What's all the ruckus about?" Granddad asked, walking in. "Suzie, I think poor Timmy's got the runs or something. He ran into that bathroom faster than a jackrabbit sprinting across white-hot sand."

He stopped in the middle of the room, looking to my dad and Aunt Louise. He sighed, putting his face in his hand.

"Dad, why don't you ask your oldest daughter why she's here?" My dad backed away, sitting down and folding his arms.

"I'm not getting into this," Granddad said into his hand. "Not now."

"There isn't anything indicating that I'm here for something." Aunt Louise rose and stared at my dad with her cold eyes. "Maybe I came to spend Christmas with my family."

Aunt Suzie stood, as well. "It wouldn't seem so suspicious if you came home more often, Louise."

Granddad's face contorted into the most fearful glower I have ever seen. It still gives me nightmares sometimes.

"The three of you, stop," he said calmly, dangerously. "We're not going to bring it up."

"Mommy?" Alex whispered. "I want to go home."

"She's here to say she needs more money, isn't she?" Dad wouldn't let it go. "She keeps spending it on that blasted camp of hers, all because of some stupid legend!"

"You can't keep feeding into her compulsiveness, Dad," Aunt Suzie added. "It's not healthy."

Aunt Louise got right into Aunt Suzie's face. "Excuse me?"

"ENOUGH!" Granddad hollered. "All of you! I told you, we're not going to discuss this!"

"We _never _do!" Aunt Suzie exclaimed. "You keep giving her money to run that stupid camp, and year after year, she can't pay it back! She's going to leech you bone dry, Daddy! We're already behind in our debt, and we don't need her making it worse!"

"I'll get him the money," Aunt Louise growled. "I'll give him tenfold of what he's given me."

"You'll never be able to!" my dad shouted. "Give it up, Louise! You can't honestly think-"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Granddad yelled, louder than before.

The room fell quiet. Grandma hobbled up the steps, mumbling, "What the hell is going on?" to herself.

"I want all of you out. Every last one of you." Granddad was staring out the window, his voice low.

"Dad..." Aunt Suzie began.

"I said...out."

And that was that. A few minutes later, I found myself in the backseat of our car, driving away from my grandparents' house.

That night, my parents filled Alex and I in on what was going on. Aunt Louise ran a camp called Camp Green Lake, only it wasn't a normal camp. It was for boys who had broken the law, but that was all they told us. We were left to assume that Aunt Louise didn't have a lot of money, and Granddad supported her the best he could.

I didn't see anything wrong with that. If she couldn't find a better job, she needed help, didn't she? But I guess it all came down to my dad and Aunt Suzie being jealous that Granddad didn't give them money whenever they asked. At least, that was what I thought at the time.

I tried not to think about Aunt Louise or Camp Green Lake after that, but Peyton was keen on finding out why it was such a sore topic. She never succeeded, but she remained undaunted, and would try to do some snooping each time she was over at our grandparents' house. She never found anything, but she acted as if, any day, she would come across the answer she was searching for.

And so, for the next seven years, Aunt Louise and Camp Green Lake faded out of my mind. It wasn't until the summer I turned sixteen that things would really start getting strange.


	4. 2: Summer Plans

_If the story's going too fast, please let me know. And reviews are always appreciated, please! _

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><p><span>Chapter 2: Summer Plans<span>

It was 7:30 a.m. on the first official day of summer vacation. I yawned and looked out the window, quickly recoiling and shutting my shades. The sun was already rising in the sky, sending a blast of light right into my window. Momentarily blinded, I sat until my retinas readjusted themselves before getting out of bed.

Mom and Dad had already left for work, so that meant it was me and Alex. We had our own separate routines, and didn't really interact during the day. Alex usually went out with his friends, though I have no idea why. Austin, Texas isn't exactly the best place to be in the summer; temperatures can climb to over 100 degrees, and that's on a good day.

Anyway, since I hadn't found a paying job, I stayed in the air-conditioned house and amused myself with the TV and my ceiling-tall bookshelf. That first week went by without conflict. Day after day after day, nothing really changed. It was fun for the first couple of hours, but it soon got really old. Not that I don't love reading or anything, but since I didn't have my license (and I'm NOT getting into that, mind you), I couldn't go to the library or anything.

I think my mom could tell I was bored. She suggested I go over to Peyton's house, since she only lived two blocks down. But Peyton was never home because she babysat for five obnoxious children every day of the week. And their mother, being the overprotective woman that she is, refused to have her children's schedule "upset by disorder". The bottom line: I couldn't visit.

So I spent another week in the same, listless way I had the week before. But one fine Wednesday afternoon, right after a rousing episode of "Go, Diego, Go!" (in my defense, it was the only thing on, and I like having noise when I'm the only one at home), my mom called for her daily afternoon check-in. And she had some news for me.

"I was just about to call you, when someone called my work phone," she told me. "And you'll never guess who it was."

"You're right, Mom, I probably won't," I said dryly.

"Come on, Beatrice! Don't spoil my attempt to make you smile."

"Mom…" I groaned, feeling a grin spread across my face.

"There it is, I can hear it!"

"So who called?"

"Your Aunt Louise."

"Oh, God…" I pushed a strand of brown hair out of my eyes. "Are you serious? How does she even know your number? Isn't her house out in the middle of nowhere?"

"That's exactly what I thought. Anyway, she called and asked how things have been going for us and…"

"Since when is she interested?" I cut in. Aunt Louise was never interested in anything other than her camp.

"I don't know, but we talked for a few minutes, and it seemed like she genuinely wanted to know. But…"

"Of course." There was always a condition with Aunt Louise. Always.

"Then she brought up you and Peyton."

Suddenly I knew where this was going. I knew why my aunt had bothered to look up my mom's number. I knew why she had called.

I desperately hoped that my mom wasn't going to say what I thought she was going to say.

"No," I said feebly.

"Sorry, sweetie. But she wants you guys to visit her."

There it was.

I collapsed in a chair in the living room, utterly annoyed. I had been to Camp Green Lake twice before: once the previous Christmas, and once the previous spring break. Aunt Louise had insisted that Peyton and I go to help her out with inventory or some lame excuse, but I knew why she wanted us there. Since she was still on bad terms with my dad and Aunt Suzie, the only way for her to make amends with them was by using the kids; she'd bring us to camp to show us how "wonderful" she was doing, and then have us report back to our parents. And since Peyton and I are the oldest nieces in the family, we were the first targets.

"You told her no, right?" I asked hopefully.

The other end of the line was silent. I already knew the answer to that.

"Mom, you didn't…"

"Honey, what was I going to do? If I said no, she'd keep calling all summer and running up the phone bill, like last Christmas. Besides, I think it'd be good for you to get some fresh air."

"That camp is in a desert," I reminded her. "The only shade for miles is those two ugly trees outside that tiny cabin. I'm going to fry! Not only that, but it's, like, a bajillion degrees out there!"

"Oh, no! The little starfish is sad!" came Dora's voice from the TV.

I mentally cringed, turning down the volume. If there was one thing I needed right now, it definitely wasn't Dora telling me the painfully obvious.

"Sweetie," my mom continued, "I know you don't like it there, but it'll be a good excuse for you and Peyton to spend time together. That'll be fun."

"Yeah, but Mom-"

"Beatrice."

"What?"

"Just…do it for your dad and I. Please? Dad doesn't like this idea any more than you do. He was about ready to say no. He hates that your aunt is manipulating our family through you and Peyton. But he knows that your aunt is persistent, and that if he refuses…well…she has ways of being persuasive. So could you do it just this once?"

"Just this once? You said the same thing the past two times you asked!"

"Please, Beatrice?"

My mother had turned to begging. That was unlike her. She never did that unless she was desperate.

Which I guess she was.

I knew I didn't have a choice now. My mom needed me to oblige. My whole family did. Aunt Louise could be conniving when it suited her, and although I had no idea how a woman who hardly showed her face and never called could be in any way threatening, I hated to think about what would happen if we didn't do what she said. That Christmas morning and the past two trips to Camp Green Lake had shown me that she could get angry very fast.

"Fine," I said after a minute. "But just know that I'm not happy about this."

* * *

><p>That night, Peyton called. I knew before picking up what she was going to say.<p>

"I can't believe her!"

"Hello to you, too," I said, flopping down on my bed.

"I swear to God, that woman is _insane_. She honestly thinks she can just whisk us out to that desert whenever she wants?"

"Peyton, why are you complaining? You actually like it there."

"Okay, just because I've made friends with some of the boys, doesn't mean I _like_ it there."

I rolled my eyes. "Do you have any idea why our parents are giving into her, anyway? I mean, all my mom said to me was that she doesn't want the phone bill to be as ungodly high as it was at Christmas."

"My parents won't say anything about that, either. You'd think they would ignore her after all these years." There was a pause, and I knew the wheels in Peyton's head were spinning.

"Peyton..." I said. "Don't tell me you're thinking about..."

"You know what? I'm glad we're going." I could almost hear the devious smile in her voice. "This will be the perfect opportunity for us to do some digging. Not only for why our parents continue to send us, but also why Aunt Louise continues to stay at that camp."

I shook my head. "And how are you proposing we do that?"

"We'll figure it out as we go."

"If by 'we', you mean 'you'." I sighed. "Peyton, I would love nothing more than to stay out of our family's bizarre feud, and I'm planning to keep it that way. If you figure it all out, then that's great. But I'd rather let sleeping dogs lie."

"Trix, come on! This could be our chance to finally figure it all out! Our parents have never told us anything, and I doubt they'll start now. Haven't you been a little bit curious about Aunt Louise?"

"Not really. And, for the sake of argument, why didn't you think of this the last two times we were there?"

Peyton grew quiet. "I was...distracted, I suppose."

I laughed. "By boys, right?"

"It doesn't matter. The point is, I'm not going back home without discovering _something_. At least it'll give me something to do than sit inside all day."

I knew she was trying to get me to loosen up, and I hated to admit it was working a bit. But I wasn't about to let her know that.

"Whatever you say, Peyton. You let me know how that goes for you."

After a few minutes, we hung up. I spent that whole night thinking about my Aunt Louise, Camp Green Lake, and all the secrets my parents were keeping from me.


	5. 3: The Joys of Camp Green Lake

_A/N: This might be the last chapter for a while. I've typed a bit of this story beforehand, which is why I'm posting so much. Luckily, I own the movie, and the book, and several people have been kind enough to upload the movie to YouTube. :)_

_Reviews are always appreciated!_

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><p><span>Chapter 3: The Joys of Camp Green Lake<span>

Camp Green Lake has been owned by the Walker family for over a century. It would probably be a lot more useful if it was filled with water. Which it wasn't.

It hadn't rained a drop on that lake for almost as long as we'd owned that property. And I didn't understand why we still owned it if it was just a big dried-up lake bed. Then again, I didn't understand a lot of things about my family.

Camp Green Lake required its campers to each dig one hole every day, five feet wide and five feet deep. It didn't matter how long it took, or how weak you felt; that was the rule.

Aunt Louise was the warden of Camp Green Lake. I don't really know what that meant, besides the fact that she was the only female for miles around. She didn't do much, to be honest. I never really saw much of her, except for at dinner.

My actual experience at camp was not something I liked to talk about much. The camp itself was for delinquents, guys that had broken the law. They were all scary-looking, not to mention dirty from digging so many holes. Add my naturally shy disposition when it comes to the male species, and you got me constantly hiding from the campers.

Peyton, being Peyton, warmed up to them immediately. She loved getting attention from the boys, even if they were troublemakers. The two times we'd been there, she had her eye on a specific boy named Lewis (nicknamed Barf Bag), who I knew for a fact tried to avoid her because she came on too strong. But since she couldn't take the hint, she spent more and more time with him and his friends, which was how we wound up being junior counselors.

There were five groups of campers, all assigned a tent with a letter: A, B, C, D, and E. Each group was assigned a counselor, and they slept in tent F. I thought we'd rotate groups, since we were only there for a few weeks at a time. But Aunt Louise must have seen how fond Peyton grew of Barf Bag, so she assigned us to his tent - the D tent.

Lewis himself seemed to be rather shy, but that could have been because of Peyton. When he wasn't digging holes, I could never see him without her tailing close behind. As a result, I never really got to know him that well.

There were about six other boys in his tent, but I could only remember a few of them over the two stays. They all looked so much alike, I was surprised I remembered at as many as I did.

The ring leader seemed to be a black guy named Rex, called X-Ray. He had really dirty glasses and a smirk that made you want to slap him.

Alan was a handsome-looking guy with light brown hair and the nickname Squid. He liked to goof off the most, it seemed, but that was partly due to him having a massive crush on Peyton.

There was a guy named Ricky who had wild-looking blond hair and even wilder looking eyes. He was appropriately nicknamed Zigzag. He was my least favorite, besides X-Ray. He had an air of arrogance about him, besides his usual craziness.

Theodore was the other black guy. He was bigger than everyone else in D-Tent, and was pretty tough. And his nickname - Armpit - suited him well. I had the unfortunate experience of walking by him with his arms up, and I passed out for a few hours.

The last guy in D-Tent was Jose. He was the most puzzling to me. His personality seemed split, if anything - sometimes he was nice, and sometimes he was a jerk. He got his nickname, Magnet, from the fact that he could never keep his hands off of everyone's stuff.

These guys were like the obnoxious older brothers I never had. At least, these were the ones I remembered. There were others who came before them, but they had left before they had made a lasting impression on me.

To (supposedly) make our time at camp a little bit more enjoyable, the boys thought it would suffice to give both me and Peyton nicknames, since it was something they did for everyone. Peyton, in my opinion, got lucky; she was given the name The Golden One, sometimes Goldie, because of the color of her hair. She was genuinely pleased with her name. A lot more-so than I was.

How I got mine was a little less flattering.

The D-tent boys never really noticed me because, according to them, I would "stand so stock-still, I seemed to blend in with the wood." At first, they were going to call me Beanpole, but then realized that I was shorter than all of them. And that was when Squid came up with the fateful name that stuck.

"Bumblebee," he said. "It's perfect. I mean, she's always underfoot, like a bee. And her name is Beatrice. Get it?"

Everyone else seemed to agree with his reasoning, save myself. But it didn't matter; I was branded with Bumblebee, or sometimes just Bee.

I mean, it was bad enough that the counselor of the D-tent, Dr. Pendanski, called me Miss Walker (his being kind of creepy didn't really help, either). I was much more comfortable with being called by my real name, or sometimes Trix, and only Peyton seemed capable of calling me either of those. Now I had to live with a name that was applied to a fuzzy yellow-and-black insect.

But, whatever. I suppose being "in" with everyone was much better than being "out". Because if you were out…well…let's just say the guys didn't warm up very quickly to the new kids. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

* * *

><p>The day we left finally came. We had to leave early in the morning, because it was a nine-hour drive to the camp. Peyton, naturally, hated this; she was a late sleeper, and was rather perturbed to be on the bus by six in the morning.<p>

The bus driver and the guard were also less than enthusiastic to be driving for nine hours. I was sure that this was the only bus my aunt could afford, and so these two must have made countless trips back and forth between the camp. I felt bad for them, and planned to thank them once we arrived, but their glares never left their faces, and scared me into silence.

To be honest, the whole trip I spent reading and sleeping. I would read a few chapters of my book, then drop off to sleep until we hit a bump (which was often). After eight-and-a-half hours of that, I finally resorted to staring out the dirt-streaked window, watching the boring desert landscape pass.

Petyon's head popped up from the very back of the bus. "Let's play a game! I spy with my little eye…"

I groaned and laid my head against the window. "Dirt," I guessed.

Peyton gasped. "Yeah! How did you know?"

I turned to her and shrugged. "It's pretty much everywhere."

Peyton nodded before going back to staring out at the desert.

I know you're thinking that she was dumb because she was tired. But that's not it at all. My cousin could be stupid when she wanted. She had a dual personality: her Normal one and her Girly one. The Normal one was present whenever she was with friends and family; the Girly one came out whenever she was gearing up to do some serious flirting. And I knew that the Girly Peyton was on the move.

Which was just as well. She would just add to the uncomfortable feeling I always got when I was at camp.

After a half-hour that seemed like it lasted forever, holes started popping up all over the landscape. There was dirt flying everywhere, and if I looked closely, I could see some shovels popping in and out of the holes.

"Welcome to Camp Green Lake," the guard grunted.


	6. 4: Barf Bag No More

_A/N: Jeez, I'm fast at this! Well, I swear, this will be the last chapter for a while. I've got homework that's being neglected, and if I don't do it, then that's not a good thing. :p _

_Anyway, thanks to lazy4ever for reviewing! I'll think about your suggestion...it certainly is an interesting one. ;)_

_Please keep the reviews coming! Happy reading! :)_

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><p><span>Chapter 4: Barf Bag No More<span>

My aunt wasn't the first one to greet us, unfortunately. Now, as weird as that sounds, there is someone who's just as bad, if not worse than my aunt Louise. And that someone is Mr. Sir.

I'm dead serious. That's his name. Mr. Sir. If you laugh, well...it was nice knowing you.

Mr. Sir is one of those people you only dream about meeting. He's the bad guy in all your worst nightmares. He's got thinning hair, killer sideburns, daggers for eyes, and a sinister snake tattoo on his arm. His voice is deep and gravelly, and after one look at him you know you don't want to mess with him.

He grunted at us and spat something through his teeth. I looked at the ground and saw a chewed-up sunflower seed.

"Welcome back to hell, ladies," he said, a smirk on his face.

* * *

><p>The camp isn't much. There's the Mess Hall, which lives up to its name; the Rec Building, complete with a broken TV and a beat-up pool table; the Warden's Cabin, where my aunt lived, and the only air-conditioned building on the premises; and other assorted buildings and tents. I would also like to point out that my aunt's cabin was the only building with a controllable shower, as well. Needless to say I was at least glad of that.<p>

It's a well-known fact that Mr. Sir would constantly remind everyone that "this ain't a Girl Scout camp!" Peyton thought it was hilarious when he said that; she found it amusing when the vein in the side of his neck came close to popping.

"You know the rules," Mr. Sir muttered as he led us to the entrance of the Warden's cabin. "I'm not gonna waste my time and rattle them off for ya." He spat another sunflower seed out of his mouth.

He knocked on the screen door. After a moment, I saw a flash of red hair from behind the screen. "What?" came my aunt's voice.

"Your nieces are here," Mr. Sir said.

The door opened, and my Aunt Louise stepped out, a big smile on her face. She looked the same as she had a few months ago, except for the fact that her face had collected more freckles and worry lines.

"Hello, girls," she said, opening her arms. Peyton and I exchanged a nervous look before moving in for an awkward hug. When we broke apart, Mr. Sir had disappeared.

"I'm so glad you could make it," Aunt Louise said, leading us inside. "I've been a bit lonesome lately."

I tried not to snort. That was the biggest bag of baloney I'd ever heard. She hadn't missed us. She was just chomping for another opportunity to get a good word in to our parents.

And, sure enough, that's what she asked us next.

"So, did you tell your folks all about your stay?" she asked.

"Yes," Peyton said.

"Good."

And that was all she said to us for the rest of the day.

* * *

><p>Peyton and I stayed in the guest bedroom, which was just off the living room. There were two cots set up, and in-between was a small nightstand. The only bathroom was across the cabin and off the kitchen; it was the size of a small broom closet.<p>

"I am _exhausted_," Peyton groaned, flopping down on her cot.

"You slept almost the whole ride," I pointed out, unpacking my clothes.

"So what? It wasn't like it was comfortable."

I laughed and turned back to my bag. "I just figured you'd want to go and see Barf Bag, that's all."

I swear, there must have been a trail of fire she left behind, she was out the door so fast.

About ten minutes later, she came trudging back in, looking sadder than I'd ever seen her.

"What's wrong?"

"He's not here," she said. "A rattlesnake bit his toe."

"Oh, Peyton..." I crossed the room and gave her a hug. "I'm sorry."

I wasn't sure if I was, to be honest. I had a feeling that a rattlesnake getting Barf Bag wasn't an accident. If there was one thing I had learned about him, it was that he absolutely hated it there. Not that anyone liked Camp Green Lake, but Barf Bag was borderline insane with hatred, and looking for any way possible to leave.

And I guess he finally found one.

"I never even got his number or _anything_!" she wailed into my shoulder.

"I know, I know..." I said, rubbing her back. "It'll be okay."

I couldn't make out what she said after that. It sounded like a bunch of babbling, so I sat her down on her cot and continued to rub soothing circles on her back.

"When was he bitten?"

"About a month ago," she sniffed.

"Well, think of it this way: if he's still in the hospital, then that means he'll probably not be coming back. He's free!"

Right as it left my mouth, I knew I'd said the wrong thing. This set her off on another round of loud sobbing.

She finally settled down enough to say something intelligible. "There's a new kid. His name's Zero. He looks like he's about twelve."

I nodded. "Did he replace Barf Bag?"

She shook her head, her blond locks whipping her face. "No. The guys all say he'll be back, that he's tough and will stick it out."

"I'm sure he will," I said, still uncertain. "It's not the end of the world, Peyton."

I really needed a mouth guard. Peyton fell back onto her pillow and was positively hysterical. She was like that for the rest of the day, and well into the night. I'm positive that Aunt Louise would have tossed her out of the cabin, if Aunt Suzie and Uncle Tim wouldn't be furious with her for doing that.

"I don't see what the big deal is," I heard her say to herself. "They all look the same to me..."

And, for some strange reason, I couldn't get that phrase out of my head all night.


	7. 5: Pretty Little Paperbacks

****Chapter 5: Pretty Little Paperbacks

I like to read. Plain and simple. Ever since I was able to talk, it's rare that you won't see me without a book. (And, yes, thank you for noticing that pile of library books sitting next to my chair, Lillian. Very observant.)

Camp Green Lake was no exception. I had made sure to stock up on enough material so that I wouldn't get bored, because I was going to make sure I spent as little time as possible with any of the campers.

Peyton thought I was crazy. "We're in a camp surrounded by boys. _Very attractive boys_. Why not take advantage of it?"

"As I recall, I thought a certain young man named Lewis was at the forefront of your mind..."

Peyton harrumphed and crossed her arms. "I wasn't talking about myself," she protested. "I was talking about you. It's about time you got yourself a boyfriend, Trix."

I held up my copy of _Pride & Prejudice_. "Mr. Darcy is all the man I'll ever need."

"Ew, he's old!" Peyton squealed, taking the book out of my hands. "Plus, he's not even real. I swear, Trix, by the time we leave this hellhole, you're going to have yourself a man."

* * *

><p>Peyton's promise made me all the more unwilling to be within fifty feet of the campers.<p>

After about a week, Aunt Louise got sick of us, just as I knew she would. She hated seeing me in her cabin all day, reliving Mia Thermopolis's mishaps as a teenager-turned-princess, or following Katniss as she fought fiercely in the Hunger Games. She suggested I be more like Peyton and socialize, which is how I found myself in the rec room every afternoon.

I didn't realize it at the time, but Aunt Louise could have cared less about my social skills. She didn't want Peyton and I figuring out her deep, dark secret.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

(Don't look at me like that! It's true! I'm not at that part yet!)

Trying to read in the rec room is like trying to sleep in a construction zone: try as you might, you just can't accomplish your goal. After a while, I just stared at the pages, hoping that by feigning that I was busy, the boys wouldn't bother me.

Unfortunately, that's not how they operate.

"Hey, Bumblebee!" X-Ray plopped down on the arm of the dirty chair I sat in. "Whatcha readin'?"

I pretended I hadn't heard him speak.

"Yo! Bee!" He spoke louder. "I asked you, 'Whatcha readin''?"

Again, I kept my focus on the book. But that focus was quickly terminated. Quicker than a jackrabbit, the book was out of my hands.

"Pretty...Little...Liars..." Zigzag ran his grimy fingers over the cover. "Dude, this is a kid's book! There's a Barbie on the front!"

"But she's kinda smokin'," Magnet piped up from beside him. "Look at those plastic legs!"

"Man, that's disgustin'!" Armpit punched him in the arm. "It's a doll! She ain't real!"

I held out my hand, trying not to lose my temper. "Can I please have the book back?"

Zigzag raised the book over his head, well out of my reach. "What's the rush, Bee? We don't have a lot of books in here to entertain us. You wouldn't want to take away our fun, would you?" He winked at me.

I didn't falter. "Give me the book, Zigzag. Please."

A chorus of "Ooooohhhhhhhh"s aroused from the D-Tent boys. I felt my blood pressure increase.

"Did you hear that? She said 'please'," Magnet said. "She must mean business!"

"Zig, I'd give it back to her," X-Ray instructed snidely. "You wouldn't want Bumblebee kicking your butt!"

"I'll give it to her when I'm done with it," Zigzag said, keeping the book aloft.

"Come on," I pleaded.

The gathered boys just snickered. I sighed, walking briskly away.

"Hey, Bee! Come back!"

I didn't turn around. I reached for the door.

"Take the stupid thing, then!"

I felt a dull pain at the back of my head, then heard the flop of the book hitting the floor. I stood for a moment, frozen.

Then I tore out of there.

* * *

><p>The cabin's porch steps were my safe haven. It was within the off-limits perimeter of the campers, but it wasn't where Aunt Louise could yell at me. That's where I found myself a few minutes later, glaring at the dirt at my feet.<p>

I wanted more than anything to go home. I wanted to get away from the sand, from my aunt, from those inconsiderate boys. They thought they could do whatever they wanted, just because they were bigger than me. Just because I didn't really fit in with them.

Just because I was different.

A pair of dirty boots came into my line of vision. I looked up to see the short boy from D-Tent. The new kid. Zero.

I blinked, confused. From what I had seen, he was a wallflower, even worse than I was. He never said anything, and was always frowning. It made me want to make friends with him - almost.

"Hi," I said, trying not to let my anger leak into my voice. "You need something?"

He slowly held out his hand, and my eyes widened. It was a yellow paperback, a bit beaten-up, with a perky blond doll on the cover and swirly pink writing.

It was my book.

I took it from him. "Thank you," I said quietly.

He just looked at me for a moment longer before turning and walking away.

I sat for what seemed like hours, staring off into space. What had caused him to return my book? I had never said or done anything to him, good or bad. All I knew about him was that he was new, and his nickname was Zero. Come to think of it, I didn't even know his real name.

But that act of kindness made me want to know his real name. It made me curious about who Zero was.

And that curiosity is how I wound up becoming more involved than I wanted to be.


	8. 6: The New Arrival

_Thanks to everyone for favorite-ing/reviewing! :D_

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 6: The New Arrival<span>

Zero wasn't all that cooperative with anyone - not even me. He seemed intent on avoiding everyone at camp; no matter who said what to him, he never said anything back. At least, not that I could tell. The only time I saw any of the campers after that awful book snatching (it was traumatizing...don't make fun of me for it!) was when I accompanied Pendanski with the water truck. Pendanski would be absolutely awful to him, but he never showed signs of being upset. He never even acknowledged anyone; he just dug his holes and kept to himself.

Part of our junior counselor duties included going out to visit the boys when the water truck went out on its daily runs. It was a lose-lose situation: I was stuck with Pendanski, Peyton with Mr. Sir. Neither was better or worse.

The only positive about it was that the campers seemed to like Pendanski. They didn't try to give him any sass _ever_, but I think that was mostly because he wouldn't take any if it was given. And although the majority of the campers were immature and cocky, they definitely weren't stupid, and could take a hint. Me standing next to Pendanski as he filled their canteens painted a pretty clear picture for them: mess with me, and you'll get it. They even spoke cohesive sentences to me.

Other than that, I didn't have to be around the boys. And thank God for that. I could spend the rest of my time hiding from them, hiding from my aunt, and hiding from Peyton, who was still on her mission to get me a boyfriend. And if there was one thing I was good at besides finishing two books per day, it was staying hidden. Hey, there are perks with being 5 foot 2.

But enough about me complaining about that. I'd like to get back to Zero.

While juggling all that, you might think I would have given up on trying to figure him out. But that's not the case. If anything, it made me try harder. But, like I said, I became way more involved than I intended.

And, no, it's not because I fell in love with Zero. Um, he's great and all, but he's like, what, thirteen now? Gross.

It was because I found another kindred spirit because of my curiosity of Zero. Someone else who understood me, someone who wouldn't judge me because I wasn't like everyone else.

It was because I met a boy named Stanley Yelnats. The Fourth.

* * *

><p>"Trix!" Peyton was staring out the window. "Look!"<p>

I glanced up from the book I was reading. "What do you want to show me, Peyton? More dust?" I pointed to my shoes sitting by the door. "I've got a whole sandbox in my shoes. I don't think I need to see any more."

"No!" She grabbed my shirt and pointed.

Driving down the dusty road was a school bus.

This wasn't an uncommon sight, but it's not like this happened every day. The only reason a bus would be driving toward Camp Green Lake was if there was a vacancy, and that would be due to a number of reasons: snake bites, scorpion bites, innocence proven…the list went on and on.

The point was this: there was someone new entering Camp Green Lake.

And since there hadn't been any new campers since Peyton and I had gotten there, I had a pretty good feeling whose spot he was taking.

"He'd better not think I'm cute," Peyton said, pouting slightly. "I'm still upset about Lewis."

I sighed. She was still on Barf Bag, even though it'd been almost two weeks. "Peyton, I hate to burst your bubble, but you kind of freaked him out. Besides, Pendanski said he's not coming back. The snake bite was too severe for him to be returning any time soon, so his sentence was revoked."

"And he didn't even give me a phone number!" Peyton sighed dramatically. "The pain I endure for the boy I love."

I rolled my eyes and went back to reading. "Whoever he is, he can't be any worse than the geniuses here."

She stared at me for a moment. "Aren't you the least bit curious to see who he is?"

"No."

"Ugh!" She laughed. "Trix, you are so dull sometimes! My heart is in pieces, yet I'm still going to make an effort to get to know the new kid. And where does that leave you? Sitting on your butt, reading some book that you've probably read a million times."

"A million and three," I corrected.

She smiled. "I still think you're making a mistake."

I stuck my face back into my book. "Whatever you say, Mom."

She punched me. "You don't know what you're missing out on," she sang as she walked out the door.

"Right," I muttered, going back to my book.

* * *

><p>I lasted less than a minute.<p>

Okay, so I was curious. Can you blame me? I wanted to see what I was up against, who I had to add to my list of People to Avoid For the Rest of My Life at Camp Green Lake.

I tossed down my book on my cot, grabbed my baseball hat, and shoved on my sneakers. I threw open the door and sat on the porch steps, not daring to go any further because there were some boys washing my aunt's car.

"Hey, Bee!" one called. "You wanna join us?" He tried to spray me with the hose in his hand, but ended up spraying his buddy, which resulted in a water fight. Seeing as they were distracted, I was able to sneak off the porch steps just in time to meet the bus as it came roaring down the road.

I found a seat on the porch of the Rec Room, pulling the hat brim over my eyes to avert my gaze from any other onlooking campers. The bus doors opened, and out came one of the most pathetic, wimpy people I have ever laid eyes on.


	9. 7: The First Encounter

_Muse is a funny thing. I have no clue where this one went, but it's back. :) Thanks for being patient, everyone._

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 7: The First Encounter<span>

Stanley Yelnats IV. Where do I even begin?

(Lillian, stop looking at me like that. I'll get to it, okay? Patience is a virtue.)

Stanley Yelnats was from a line of Stanley Yelnatses. They had this tradition to name the boys in the family Stanley, because it was Yelnats spelled backwards. I think that's one of the first things he ever said to me, actually. "I'm lucky I don't have any brothers," he had told me. "We'd all probably be named Stanley."

You have to understand that a lot of the kids at Camp Green Lake are genuine juvenile delinquents. They're used to this sort of thing, and they're usually hulking, huge, and dangerous - or they puff themselves up to be that way. From the way Stanley looked when he first arrived at camp, I was almost certain he hadn't even been allowed to play contact sports in gym class.

He was a little overweight when I first met him. Tall and overweight, and strangely wimpy-looking. He hugged his backpack to his chest as he stepped off the bus. He blinked a lot from the dust; I smirked to myself. _Get used to it_, I thought.

"So...where's the lake?" I heard him ask.

"Don't get smart with me," the guard barked, leading him to Mr. Sir's office.

I continued to stare after them, wondering what in the world a kid as big and as harmless-looking as that was doing here. There were very few campers who acted like that; if they did, it meant they were putting up a front, psyching everyone else out. They looked as innocent as a bunny, but if you provoked them, they lashed out like a honey badger.

For some reason, I was positive that this new kid wasn't like that. I mean, I'd only heard him say one sentence, and had been watching him for all of two minutes. And there was also the fact that he could easily crush me if he ever tripped and knocked me over. But my instincts told me that he wasn't used to this sort of thing. Which meant that, despite his size, he'd be eaten alive by sundown tomorrow.

If it were anyone else, I would have said, "Tough luck" and moved on. But the thought of a kid like him being walked all over was absolutely awful.

Especially if that kid was anything like myself.

* * *

><p>I was watching TV on the couch later that day when Peyton came back inside. I figured she'd been on water truck duty, but that was quickly dispelled with her next sentence.<p>

"New kid's in D-Tent," she said.

So she'd been doing a little snooping. She hadn't been kidding when she told me that she would. Granted, she hadn't unearthed anything about our family yet (no pun intended), but at least she was putting her skills to use.

My head shot up at her news. "Really?"

I must have looked kind of excited to hear that, because Peyton's brow furrowed before she smirked at me. "Calm down there, Trix. With that attitude, someone might think you're into him."

I shook my head. "I haven't even formally met the guy yet. How can I be interested?"

"Love at first sight," Peyton answered. "It's in all your books, isn't it?"

"No, it's not. Only in the poorly-written ones." I sighed, muting the TV. "And besides, I don't even believe in that. It's just a gimmick to keep girls reading sappy romance stories."

"Well, how will you know if you never try?" Peyton plopped herself down beside me. "I think it's worth it. He seems nice, Trix. And the guys are kind of giving him a hard time since he's new. I think he could use a friend."

I knew she was right. The boys were always wary of newcomers; the camp was almost like a family, and anyone who hadn't been there for a while was strange and unwelcome. It had taken time for them to warm up to even Peyton (albeit that time had been relatively short).

And I still couldn't shake that feeling that the new kid wasn't going to end up being like the others. I wasn't about to admit it, but I knew Peyton had a point: the only way I'd know for sure is if I talked to him.

"He doesn't start digging until tomorrow," she called over her shoulder as she walked to the kitchen. "He'll be around, if you want to go look for him."

It was as if she'd read my thoughts.

* * *

><p>I wasn't about to let my cousin pester me for the rest of the day to go out and find him, so I went outside before she had the chance to. I sneaked back to my perch on the Rec Room porch, scoping out the new kid among all the orange jumpsuits.<p>

After a couple of minutes, I saw him jogging over to where Armpit, Magnet, and Squid stood by the D-Tent. He had his water jug in his hand.

"Hey, Theodore," he said, "is there a place where I can fill my canteen up with water -"

There's an unspoken rule among the campers of Camp Green Lake, but it stands between life and death. Once a camper has a nickname, that becomes the name you address them by. You never, _ever_, under any circumstances, call them by their "real" names.

It might seem like a strange formality, but trust me, it's a huge deal. And it was also something the new kid hadn't learned yet.

Which was why he found himself in a headlock courtesy of Armpit a split second later.

"My name is not Theodore," Armpit answered, shoving him onto the ground. "It's Armpit."

He got really close to the new kid's face, and I'm sure the poor guy couldn't even breathe. Squid and Magnet stood behind Armpit, trying not to laugh.

"There's a water spigot over there," Armpit said after a minute.

This is when I decided to intervene. I still don't know what made me do it. If Armpit was in a bad mood, things didn't look too good for anybody who set him off, and I certainly was reluctant to go near him and the others. All the same, I found myself walking toward them, a fierce glare on my face.

I said nothing to them, but they were giving me smug little smiles, as if daring me to tell them off again. Instead, I turned to the new kid and offered him my hand. He stared at it, then looked at me, then back at my hand, not sure what to make of it.

"It's a hand. It's not going to eat you," I snapped.

He probably had no clue who I was or what I was doing there. New campers never quite knew what to make of two girls walking around, and they usually didn't find out unless they asked their tent counselor. I wasn't sure if Pendanski had filled him in or not, but at the moment, I didn't care. If he didn't accept my help, I wouldn't hesitate to retreat back into my shell and walk away.

He finally took my hand, and I grunted as I pulled him to his feet. "Thanks," he muttered, refusing to look directly at me.

I led him to the water spigot, aware of the others' eyes on our backs. Someone had the nerve to wolf-whistle; I gritted my teeth and didn't turn to look.

"I assume you can fill that up yourself," I said, gesturing to his water jug.

He nodded, quickly looking up before turning to the faucet. He turned and waved toward the boys. "Thanks, Armpit," he said feebly to their retreating forms.

I took the opportunity to slip away, hopefully unnoticed. Just to be sure, I hightailed it back to the cabin and flipped the TV back on.

"So did you meet him?" Peyton called from the kitchen.

"Yes."

"What'd you think?"

I shrugged, saying the only thing that came to my mind: "He seems nice."

Truth be told, I'd been too focused on the idiots watching us. But from what I'd seen, the new kid seemed decent enough to approach the next time I saw him.

Not that I'd go looking for him.


	10. 8: Awkward Conversations

Chapter 8: Awkward Conversations

Every morning at 4, the campers wake up, eat breakfast, get their shovels, and head out to the lake. Peyton and I sleep in until 9 in the morning, giving us about an hour to get ready until one of us has to go out in the water truck.

The rules of digging holes are simple. You have to dig a hole five feet wide and five feet deep. Doesn't matter how long it takes or how tired you get, you don't give up until it's done. The shovel is your measuring stick. There are periodic breaks for water and lunch. You learn to dig quickly, because if you're slow, you'll end up digging in the early afternoon, the hottest part of the day. Watch out for rattlesnakes, scorpions, yellow spotted lizards, and Mr. Sir, and you're good to go.

Since the campers all have their own pacing with their holes, it was up to Peyton and I to entertain ourselves until they came back. There wasn't much to do; I mean, we had the TV, but it only got five channels, and most of the time it was just a bunch of soap operas. I had my books, but Peyton liked to converse with me when there weren't any boys to flirt with, so that didn't get done until the afternoon, where I would hide behind the Rec Room and get lost in whatever I was reading.

Dinner was always an interesting affair. We ate frozen dinners or microwave-friendly meals. Peyton wanted to eat with the boys, but Aunt Louise told her she'd have to eat what they ate, and while I can't say the food in the cabin was the best I've had, the food in the Mess Hall was definitely inedible. Peyton may have been an honorary camper, but she wasn't about to try and stomach five different types of canned beans.

The new kid didn't tell me his name; Pendanski said it when I went out with the truck. "How's your first day, Stanley? Those blisters will go away eventually. Don't you worry."

I kept the brim of my hat turned down. I couldn't explain it, but I was a little...shy in his presence. It was like I'd forgotten that I'd snapped at him the day before, that I'd helped him up off the ground and tried to show him a little bit of kindness. I was acting as if he'd done all that for me, and not the other way around.

He didn't say anything to me, and he didn't try to grab my attention, which was fine with me. I might have told Peyton I'd try to be friendly, but that didn't mean I had to do it right then.

However, fate had other plans. At least, that's how I like to think of it.

By the time dinner rolled around, Stanley was nowhere in sight. I was thinking maybe he'd been bitten by something, or he'd run away.

"He's still out there," Mr. Sir mumbled. "Slowest digger I ever saw."

As an extra precaution, someone from D-Tent had to go out and make sure he was okay.

The campers didn't even bat an eye, and Pendanski complained of a headache. Which meant it came down to Peyton and me. She gave me a sly glance, patting me on the shoulder. "I'll let you take this one, Trix," was all she said.

And that was that.

* * *

><p>It was just me, the sand, and the holes. I trudged out onto the dried-up lake, trying to figure out what hole Stanley had dug. I hadn't even properly met him yet and I was already annoyed with him.<p>

"Hello? Can someone help me? I'm done with my hole!" The pathetic sound of a first-timer was all it took to direct me to where I needed to go. And sure enough, there he was, struggling to get out of his hole. After a few seconds he managed to climb out, and he fell over, lying beside his hole and staring up at the sky.

He wore the standard orange jumpsuit the other campers wore, and an orange cap with a towel sewn to the back covered his sand-coated brown hair. He had largish teeth, too. I stood over him, which wigged him out.

"Having fun?"

He scrambled to his feet, and I finally got a good look at his eyes; they were big and green and…kind.

"It's okay," I said. "I was sent out here to check on you." I jerked my thumb behind me. "We'd better start back. It'll be dark pretty soon."

He just nodded and grappled for his shovel. "Who…who are you?" he asked.

Wow, we really hadn't been properly introduced. He didn't even know my name. Before I could think I blurted out, "Which name you want?"

He gave me a look. "Huh?"

I crossed my arms. "You want my camp name or the 'name society recognizes me by'?" I asked, quoting Pendanski.

"Oh, well…I meant…you're the...Warden's...?"

"The Warden's niece?" I finished. "Yep. One of them, at least. You met Peyton earlier, right?"

He nodded.

"You'll be seeing us around for a while," I explained. "We're here for a few more weeks. It's not exactly Disneyworld, but I guess I can make it work."

He laughed. His laugh was nice.

We started walking back, Stanley dragging his shovel behind him. For a few minutes, we stayed silent. I was waiting for him to say something, but I realized that I'd have to do so because maybe, just maybe, he was even more nervous than I was.

"You got a name or what?" I asked, even though I already knew. It would give us something to talk about.

He cleared his throat."I'm Stanley. Stanley Yelnats."

"No nickname?"

He shook his head. It took a while for a nickname to find a camper, so I wasn't too surprised.

In the silence that followed, I almost started to laugh. Here I was, talking to a guy I'd just met almost like we were friends. I was never this talkative with anyone except Peyton. And to talk to someone like this...and for him to be a boy...not to mention a delinquent...it was surreal. But...I liked it.

"So…what about you?" he asked after a minute.

"What about me?" I felt my cheeks grow warm, which was odd.

"What's your name?"

"Which one?"

He shrugged. "Whatever works for you."

For some reason, I didn't want to tell him my real name. Maybe I'd picked up something from Peyton's many years of flirting. "Bumblebee."

"Are you serious?" He gave me a look, and I immediately regretted saying it. But it was too late, so I had to go with it.

"I didn't come up with it."

Stanley didn't say anything. He thought it was lame, that much was obvious. He was going to never speak to me again after this. Which...was bothering me. Why was it bothering me?

"I know…" I sighed. "It's not a great name."

"Then…what's your real name?"

I tried to come up with something witty or Peyton-esque to say, but I found the truth coming out instead. "Beatrice. It's a little old-fashioned…but I like it." We had reached camp by that point. The sun had set behind the mountains.

"Well, you should probably go shower before it gets too late," I said. "And I'd better get back. It was nice meeting you, Stanley."

"You, too."

I turned to walk away.

"Wait!"

I turned to face him. "Yeah?"

He shuffled his feet nervously before looking right at me. "You never told me…what you want me to call you."

"Oh." I felt a smile spread across my face. "Well, around the other guys, Bumblebee or Bee would be the safest. But…if you catch me by myself…Beatrice is fine."

"Alright." He raised a hand and waved slightly, returning the smile. "I'll see you tomorrow...Beatrice."

I nodded and walked away, feeling his eyes on me the whole way back to the cabin.


	11. 9: Opportunities

_If you guys think this story is going too fast, message me, alright? :) I love suggestions!_

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><p><span>Chapter 9: Opportunities<span>

The funny thing about boys is that I always assumed they were jerks. The ones at school were always loud and obnoxious. The ones here were loud and obnoxious. So I deduced that all boys under the age of 45 were loud and obnoxious.

But not Stanley.

It's hard to form an opinion on someone from just one conversation - and an awkward one, at that. But guys I had met before usually didn't care what I had to say. Granted, I'd always been with Peyton, but even if I did say something, it went unheeded or Peyton was the only one who acknowledged it or, in the D-Tent's case, they'd laugh and poke fun at me.

But not Stanley.

And the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to talk to him. Like, I genuinely wanted to sit down and have a civil conversation with him. No awkwardness, no stupid onlookers, no trying too hard to flirt. Just the two of us talking.

There was just one problem with this: I had to tell Peyton.

I didn't want to tell her. I really didn't. She'd take it the wrong way, which is the exact opposite of what I wanted. But she was the only one who could keep the boys from bothering me during their free time, and if I wanted to get Stanley where no one would bother us, I'd have to let her in on what was going on. Even if that meant I'd have to endure "I told you so" accompanied with a bright smile for the rest of my life.

So the next afternoon, when she came back from the water truck, I told her.

And her reaction didn't disappoint.

"Oh my GOD!" She squealed and started doing a little dance. "Trix, that's so cute! And I think he's totally into you! Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because I was afraid you'd do this," I said bluntly. "And you have."

"Sorry...but it's so exciting!" She sat down beside me on the couch. "I finally get to help you with a boy!"

I sighed. "Peyton, it's not like that. I told you. I just need you to keep the other guys busy while I talk to him, alright?"

"Well, why him?" Peyton was positively giddy. "You never did this with the other guys. You were never this concerned about them being rude or whatever you think of them."

Words failed me just then. "Well...I just...maybe it's time I started doing that," I said quickly, feeling my face heat up.

She nudged me. "It's alright to admit that you have a crush on him, Trix. There's nothing wrong with that."

"I don't even KNOW him!" I exclaimed. "How can I possibly have a crush on a guy I've said all of five sentences to?"

"You at least think he's cute." She raised an eyebrow. "That much is true. I know it is."

I looked away, biting my lip. I wasn't going to say that. Because I didn't think Stanley Yelnats was cute. He wasn't cute in the slightest. I mean, his smile was nice, as was his laugh. But a lot of people had nice smiles and laughs. That meant absolutely nothing. But he was actually answering my questions last night, and making an effort to talk. It was polite of him to do. Not many boys I knew were like that. And his eyes were the color of grass back home, the really soft kind, and they were just so big and showed that he really was nervous and scared but kind of curious as well and they were just so...damn...

Cute.

Okay.

So maybe I thought he was a little cute.

So what?

I turned back to Peyton. "Can you just please make sure no one bothers us? And doesn't get the wrong idea?"

She smiled and nodded. "If you guys end up dating, I'm totally going to take credit."

I rolled my eyes. "It's not very likely, so go right ahead."

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><p>I kept chickening out.<p>

I know, I know, I'm pathetic, right? Some random kinda-fat kid with largish teeth waltzes into camp, and suddenly I'm gun shy and can't even look at him. But I was scared. I'll admit it. I'd never actually done anything about a crush of mine beyond staring at said object of affection. So to actually do something more than that was kind of daunting to me. Especially if he wasn't interested in even speaking to me.

Peyton was getting kind of annoyed with me when I hadn't done anything by the time Stanley had been there a week. She said that if I didn't talk to him soon, she'd make a very public show of literally pushing us together and making us talk. I was beginning to think I should just give up and let myself be embarrassed when I finally got my chance.

You might call it sheer coincidence, but I like to think of it otherwise.

The only way I could look for opportune moments was if I made an effort, so I had to break my personal rule of going near the boys. I sat in a secluded corner of the Rec Room,, in the same chair, every day. Peyton must have been upholding her end of the bargain, because the guys didn't give me any trouble that entire week. I don't know how she did it, but it was nice to pretend to read in peace for once.

Stanley was sitting at a table a few feet away, writing a letter. I assumed it was to his parents, but I didn't know if he even had parents; maybe he was an orphan. Maybe he was writing his will. Maybe he was writing a story or fanfiction or something. I'd never know until I _asked him_.

I was debating whether or not to leave the comfort and relative safety of the chair when Squid appeared. He snatched whatever Stanley had been writing out from under him and skimmed it. "Who you writin' to? Awww, you miss your mommy and daddy?"

Stanley shot out of his chair and followed him. "I don't want them to worry," he said, reaching for the letter.

"They don't care," Squid said. He pushed Stanley's hand away, his eyes never leaving the paper.

"Give me the letter -"

"Believe me!" Squid grabbed the front of Stanley's suit, simultaneously crumpling the letter. He threw it in the trash and walked away. "They're glad to be rid of you."

I don't know what I was expecting, but it sure wasn't what happened next. Stanley picked the letter out of the trash, went over to the outgoing mailbox, smoothed it out, gave it a kiss, and put it in the slot.

And that was what finally propelled me to go over and say something. Maybe it was the sentimental side of me, but I thought what he had done was brave. I suppose I'm a sucker for guys who aren't afraid to show love to their family.

Lord knows my own family's screwed up enough as it is.

I stood behind him for a few moments before I finally found my voice.

"You kiss everything you pick up out of the trash?"

He turned around, a look of recognition in his eyes. I was waiting for him to shake his head and walk away, to ignore what I had said. It was more biting than I'd intended it to be.

Instead, he shrugged and said, "Only if I feel like it."

I felt myself smile at that. "So was that letter to your parents?"

"Yeah." He ducked his head. "It's not like I'm...not to say I don't...they made me promise to write to them every week -"

"I think that's sweet."

He looked up and frowned. "...Really?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I mean, if they're worried about you..." I trailed off, my mind drawing a blank.

"They are, trust me."

"Well, then...it's nice for them to know what's going on."

"Yeah. I...I guess it is."

I nodded again, sensing the conversation was over and turning to walk away. I mentally winced; that had so not gone over well.

"Hey...Beatrice?"

I couldn't help the smile that fought its way onto my face as I turned to face him. "Yeah?"

"I was wondering if you'd wanna...sit and talk? If you're not too busy with your reading...?"

I smiled wider. He wanted to talk to me, too. I had been my usual awkward self, and he still wanted to talk to me.

"I'd like that," I answered. "Do me one favor."

He blinked, confused, but nodded.

"Call me Beatrice with all these people listening again, and I'll kick you in the shin."

The answering smile I got was one I won't forget. Especially since it was for me.


	12. 10: Little Known Facts

Chapter 10: Little Known Facts

This is what came of that long-awaited conversation: I learned what Stanley had been convicted of. The dinner bell rang after that, which meant he had to go choke down some glop the cooks had heated up and I had to face my aunt's sulkiness.

For those of you who are reading this and don't know the details, here's why Stanley was sent to Camp Green Lake.

Clyde "Sweet Feet" Livingston is probably the most successful infielder in Texas. He donated a pair of his shoes to a homeless shelter. They were stolen. According to Stanley, the shoes fell from the sky and hit him on the head. According to the police, they saw him running down the street with the shoes and not looking very innocent. He had two choices: going to jail, or spending a year and a half at Camp Green Lake.

Stanley's never been to camp before. I wonder if he ever figured out that this wasn't an ordinary camp.

He didn't give me time to react to his story. And the truth is, I didn't believe him at first.

(What? You thought I was going to be the supportive girlfriend or something? That story was nuts.

Lillian...NOT YET. I will get to it, alright? Just stay in your seat! Do you want the story or not?)

Maybe I would have given him the benefit of the doubt if I'd known him better, but there was no way I would believe that the shoes magically fell from the sky. That only happened in fairy tales. It didn't happen to ordinary boys.

But as it turns out, he was right. Sort of.

Of course, I learned that long after the story was relevant, but I suppose knowing the truth is better than thinking he was crazy.

But I guess the truth isn't always the best thing to hear. Especially if the truth ends up biting you in the ass.

Which I would learn all too well soon enough.

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><p>With my focus suddenly on Stanley, I had nearly forgotten about Zero and how I was trying to figure him out. But he was brought back in the day after my near-conversation.<p>

I was behind the Rec Room, reading like I always was. And the same beat-up boots appeared before me.

Remember how I said the campers each dig at their own speed? Zero's like the Speedy Gonzales of everybody at camp. And I do mean everybody. He's here a good half-hour before anyone else starts to show up. And, checking my watch, I realized that this was the case now.

"Hey," I said, frowning a bit. What did he want? He usually went off to sit in the tent or do something else that didn't involve talking. Why did he want to hang around me?

Wait, how did he even know where I was? I had been fairly confident that this spot was unknown to the campers - until now.

He continued to just look at me, then he looked at the book in my hands.

"You like fairy tales?"

He shrugged. Okay...it was better than him just standing there.

"You ever heard of Maid Maleen?" It was one of my favorites. Not many people know of it. Maid Maleen's father locks her and one of her ladies in a tower because she's in love with a prince he doesn't like. Seven years later they manage to break free and find her kingdom in shambles. So they go to the prince's kingdom, where they're hired as servants, and discover that he's betrothed to an evil, ugly woman. Since she's so hideous, she forces Maid Maleen to do a lot of pre-marriage stuff for her, which results in her not remembering a thing when the prince asks her about it later. In the end, Maid Maleen is revealed to be the true bride, and the ugly chick is beheaded, and Maid Maleen and her prince live happily ever after.

To my surprise, Zero nodded his head.

"I like it a lot," I told him. "But that's probably because the couple knew each other before the story takes place, and they don't instantly fall in love with each other."

In response, he plopped himself down next to me on the steps. At first, I had no idea what the heck he was doing, but he kept glancing at my book, then back at me, and then it clicked in my head what he wanted.

"Do you...want me to read it to you?"

He just looked at me, and that's all I needed to start.

Reading to someone wasn't entirely strange for me. I used to read to my little brother, Alex, all the time before he got old enough to read by himself. I was a little shy at first, since I hadn't read out loud to anyone in a while. But Zero was such a good listener, and the more I read, the more confident I became.

So confident that I got through three more fairy tales.

That's when someone walked by, giving me a near-heart attack. And, of course, that someone was Stanley.

He waved awkwardly. "I...I heard someone, so I..." He cleared his throat and nodded.

Zero stood up at that point, gave me what I could have sworn was the tiniest smile in the world, and walked around the corner.

"Sorry if I was interrupting," Stanley said. "I, um, didn't mean to."

I shook my head, my breathing returning to normal. "No, you weren't..." I was cut off by the blasted dinner bell.

"I guess I should..." Stanley jerked his thumb over his shoulder, looking slightly disappointed.

I shrugged. "Look at it this way. Yesterday, I got to learn why you're stuck here. Today, you got to learn that I still read fairy tales. Now we're even."

He gave me a funny look. "I...wasn't aware we weren't."

"Oh." Well, then...

"So is this a regular thing with you two?"

I shook my head. "No. He just found me back here and sat down, and I asked if he wanted me to read to him, so I just...did."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is this your secret hideout or something?"

"If that's what you want to call it." I looked around, suddenly suspicious.

"No one followed me, alright?" He checked over his shoulder after he said it, making me believe he himself wasn't sure about that.

"Can't be too careful. The guys are determined to make it hell for me here, it seems."

"That makes two of us."

I chanced a small smile at him. "It'll get better for you. You're a guy, they have to live with you. They always get used to new kids. Just...give it time."

He nodded, returning the smile.

I pointed to the Mess Hall. "You'd better go eat something before all the edible portions are gone."

He laughed and started to walk away when he turned around. "You know, the guys don't hate you. I think they miss having you hang around with them."

I rolled my eyes. "Right. They're glad I'm not -"

"They asked where you've been today," he cut in. "Something I thought you should know." He walked off, leaving me to wonder if he'd been telling the truth.


	13. 11: The Water Truck

_Thank you very much to Clouds-Aloud561 and the nice anonymous user for your kind reviews. :)_

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><p><span>Chapter 11: The Water Truck<span>

I absolutely _hated _being in that truck with Pendanski.

In my opinion, Peyton got the better end of the water truck situation. Mr. Sir may have been frightening, but at least he didn't talk to you and left you alone. Pendanski was nosy and asked way too many questions and was always so _cheery_. I would half-listen and give one-worded answers, but he never let up. I wanted to smack him in the face with a shovel like you wouldn't believe.

My job was simple. I would stand at the back of the truck, where the water spigot was, and I would either ask the boys how things were, or I'd fill their canteens. Pendanski would often do the latter, which gave me next to nothing to do, considering I hardly ever talked to the boys. I must have looked like a dork, standing there with my arms folded.

One thing I learned from all of this was that Pendanski didn't like Zero. I still can't figure out the reason. He would always talk down to him, making jokes about poor Zero's intelligence (or lack thereof). It was nearly as teeth-grating as his questions.

Since Zero was the only camper from D-Tent I could label "decent", I decided to talk to him when he was in line. I asked him the same question every day: "How's it going, Zero?" He'd nod, and Pendanski would fill his plastic bottle. It was our own little routine.

With the addition of Stanley, I began to ask him the same question, as well. His response was always, "Fine."

Pendanski was obviously annoyed with this, because he would pester me about it. "I see you like to talk with Stanley and Zero."

Silence.

"Are you three best friends or something?"

Silence.

"You know, Beatrice, it's not nice to play favorites."

Silence.

"The other boys probably feel left out."

Silence.

"Why don't you talk to them, as well, today? I think they'd appreciate that, Beatrice."

Shrug.

When he was filling X-Ray's canteen, he gave me a smile. "Beatrice. Do you have something to say to Rex?"

After a moment of me trying not to look at either of them, I mumbled, "How's it going?"

"I'm fine, Bee. Thanks."

I had to say it to the other four, as well. I refused to look at them, and I didn't care what Pendanski made of that. As long as he got off my back about it.

I gave Zero our customary greeting, and he answered. Pendanski thrust the water bottle at him, pushing him back a step.

_What the heck?_

I wasn't going to ask. I just smiled at Zero as he walked back to his hole.

Stanley was the last one. I straightened up and patted my braids, suddenly feeling a wave a nervousness wash over me. It had been happening a lot lately, and it was only when I was around Stanley. At the time, I just shook it off as him being new; I didn't know him very well, so I wasn't used to him yet.

Today, he wasn't carrying his canteen (which was slung around his shoulder). He had a slab of rock in his hand, frantically dusting it off. "I found something," he said, handing it over to Pendanski.

The most forgotten rule at Camp Green Lake was a simple one. If you find something the Warden finds interesting, you get the rest of the day off. You don't have to finish your hole, you can go back to camp and hang out and do whatever you want (within reason).

The reason it was forgotten a lot of the time was because no one found anything interesting. All that was in the dirt were rocks, snakes, and the occasional scorpion. So as you can imagine, not a lot of campers got the day off.

I wasn't really sure what my aunt found interesting. I supposed anything that wasn't rocks, snakes, or scorpions counted as such. And what Stanley had found certainly wasn't any of those.

Sure, it was a rock, but it had shapes on it. Embedded in its surface were tiny little animal outlines. From the looks of them, they were some form of prehistoric fish.

"It's a fossil," Stanley said.

"Well." Pendanski studied it, looking mildly curious. "That's interesting."

I ran my hand over the indents. "Yeah...it's very interesting." I chanced a look at Stanley, who was beaming with pride. My heart rate quickened.

"Does that mean I get the day off?" he asked, excited.

I thought for sure he would. There was next to nothing out here, and this was definitely something worthy of -

"What?" Pendanski looked confused. And evidently, his confusion was enough to attract the rest of D-Tent over to our little powwow.

"Well, Mr. Sir said that if I find something interesting, I get the day off."

I probably looked just as perplexed as Pendanski. I mean, Stanley had found something interesting. Pendanski had even said so himself. So that meant he got the day off. Didn't it?

"Stanley," Pendanski said, tossing the fossil back to him, "the Warden isn't interested in _fossils_." He spoke as if a fossil was nothing more than an ordinary rock.

The look on his face was just...heartbreaking. Okay, maybe it wasn't that sad. But it was still hard to see the excitement die.

As Pendanski filled Stanley's jug, the other boys became curious, as well. "Let me see that!" Squid said, grabbing the fossil.

"What is it?" Zigzag asked.

Armpit smiled. "Look! Look at the little fishies!" The other boys stared at him, and he quickly added, "I mean...they look like those cave fishes, man."

"I think Stanley belongs in a cave," Squid muttered, handing it back to Stanley as they walked back to their holes.

Stanley received his water and was about to go back to dig when he turned around and walked back. I could tell Pendanski thought he was going to argue about his decision, and was preparing to reprimand him.

However, Stanley walked straight up to me and handed me the fossil.

I frowned, taking it. "What's this for?"

He shrugged. "It needs a good home." He smiled shyly and traipsed back to his hole.

I didn't have time to think about what this meant. Even if I did, my mind wouldn't have worked. It was still in shock.

And as the shock wore off, I wasn't thinking about how sweet his gesture had been, like a normal girl. I was thinking about something else.

_"The Warden isn't interested in _fossils_."_

Fossils were about as interesting as it got around here. So if my aunt wasn't interested in them, there had to be something else.

But...what else was there?


End file.
